


Consume the Moon

by Proton



Category: Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Kemonomimi, M/M, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 07:41:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/937322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Proton/pseuds/Proton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a story that Ja’far has been told since he was three, engraved into his mind by the strangers who have raised him since infancy. Every night he is told this story. Every night he is told not to forget; every night he is told to remain in the arms of his protectors, Al Sarmen.</p>
<p>Every night he entertains the thought of leaving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Fairy tales man. Who doesn't love them （・∀・）
> 
> I don't know how long this fic will be, but I hope you all enjoy it o/ I will add more ships and characters as the story progresses.

Cloying fumes of sandalwood and rose invade Ja’far’s senses as he turns over in bed, facing the old woman seated at his bedside. Every night is the same; joss sticks are burned, mantras are chanted, tales are told, and his nose burns until he drifts off to sleep. It’s normally jasmine sticks the old hag burns, sometimes aloeswood, or something floral that makes his eyes sting and water unpleasantly- myrrh and frankincense, mostly.

There’s a story that Ja’far has been told since he was three, engraved into his mind by the strangers who have raised him since infancy. Every night he is told this story. Every night he is told not to forget; every night he is told to remain in the arms of his protectors, Al Sarmen.

Every night he entertains the thought of leaving.

“...There are humans, and there are beasts,” the old woman starts, her voice devoid of all feeling. It’s monotonous, droning, the same as it is every night. _Just like this story_ , Ja’far thinks. What a foolish thing to do, wasting time every night on the same story. “Beasts are untamable, savage humans who have fallen out of King Solomon’s grace. They have sinned greatly, and as such have been degraded to mere animals.

“The leaders of the beasts are the wolves. So far have they fallen that they are revered by the fallen as masters of heresy and debauchery. They are proud of their disgusting nature. They bask in their praise. But they want more. They crave Solomon’s love once more. But Solomon loves only those still in his favor- us, the humans. And because of that, the wolves want us dead.” At this, an unfitting smile shows on the woman’s face and the corner’s of her eyes crinkle. Ja’far can only shift in bed as she continues.

“So day in and day out, they kidnap and devour humans who stray out of their villages in the morning, and pluck up those who remain out of their houses at night. The humans began to live in fear. Their numbers were beginning to dwindle. King Solomon, worried for his children, decided to take matters into his own hands. He created a kingdom no beast could enter, and told his children that they are to stay in those fortified walls forever. We are his _kharoof_ , his faithful sheep, and listened to him without question.

“So proud of the newly created kingdom is Solomon that he poses a challenge to the wolves who now sought desperately to find a way into the kingdom. ‘ _Acquire a human, and let your blasphemous leader learn to love him_ ,’ he said. _‘If your leader learns to love his enemy, he will grow strong. Strong enough to tear down the walls of my blessed kingdom; strong enough to wage war against my darling children. When no humans remain, you will all forever be in my favor. But be warned--should the human taste the sun after they have learned to love your leader in return...your leader’s powers will begin to wither and the humans will attack_.’” Ja’far’s eyes squint as his vision grows hazy; his fingertips press against his temples and he rubs them in agitation. Every night these spells overcome him at the mention of the sun and the moon; that part of the story didn’t make any _sense_ , but still the words remained in his head, like important reminders. It drove him mad.

“ _‘If the human’s love is pure and they truly wish for you to succeed, they will forfeit their life soon afterwards and consume the moon. Only then will the wolves win the war._ ’ And that was his challenge- to love. But wolves could not love, for they were not like us...it was a hopeless endeavor that they tried to pursue nonetheless. And that’s why, to this day, the wolves continue to devour the humans who leave the kingdom, unable to love another and become loved by King Solomon in return.

“So Ja’far, our child. You are tasked with never forgetting this important story. You are to never leave the kingdom’s walls; you are to never love another. You belong here, with your protectors. You are Al Sarmen’s child, now and forever.” The old woman picks up the burning remains of the joss sticks and rises from her seat, hovering over the male for a second. “...You have a question on your mind, do you not?”

Massaging his temples, Ja’far frowns and looks up at the woman. “You say Solomon said these things- about eating the _sun_? The moon? That’s impossible, and yet you all claim this story is true. I want to know then, what this sun and moon is. Tell me.”

“If you are asking me to tell you, child, then you have not listened to the story enough. Perhaps you’ll think about that and eagerly await tomorrow night when I recount the tale again.” There’s a teasing tone in her voice, Ja’far swears, and his eyes narrow to annoyed slits.

“26 years old is _hardly_ what most consider to be the age of a child, beldam,” he says as he burrows himself under the sheets, away from the cold stare and mocking smile plastered on the woman’s face. “Whatever. Our session is over now, is it not? Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, our child. Sweet dreams.” Her footsteps are quieter than a ghost’s, and only the now-fading smell of sandalwood signals how long she’s been gone from the room.

Ja’far turns in bed again, the dizzy spell now gone. He’d show them- he was no one’s child, not even to those who’ve sheltered him since birth. He _would_ be free, and he _would_ make his own decisions- or die trying.

And that’s why he’s decided to leave the walls tomorrow night.


	2. The Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Attachment is the great fabricator of illusions; reality can be attained only by someone who is detached."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> odd partnerships much
> 
> i meant to get this up sooner but i just started college and...whoa...it sapped the energy right out of me
> 
> I hope the whole Al Sarmen system isn't TOO confusing...I plan on explaining it all in a later chapter so please hang in there!! u v u

It’s nearing evening the next day when Ja’far finally ventures outside, going to market to prepare for his journey outside of the walls. Accompanying him is one of Al Sarmen’s ‘lesser children’, a redhead who they called Morgiana. She was a quiet thing who walked with her eyes low, only talking when necessary. Lesser children were as good as slaves in the organization’s eyes- they always scored low on assessment tests, they could hardly read, and had poor penmanship to boot...the only thing they were good for was their physical strength, and as such were clothed poorly compared to the children who were groomable for positions of power.

The bazaar is packed with people doing last-minute shopping before the day ends, but the two easily weave their way around the bustling crowds. The old woman’s words from last night have stuck with Ja’far all morning, and since then his mind had gone to work trying to figure out those cryptic messages. Those headache-inducing words led him to believe that they had something to do with food, and so he had set to work looking for stands and kiosks with foodstuffs on display.

“Sunflower seeds, suncakes, sun-dried foods, sunquats...there’s a healthy amount of foods that has ‘sun’ somewhere in it,” Ja’far muses with a frown as they pass yet another stand boasting quality sun-dried meats. He had half a mind to throw caution to the wind and buy _all_ of it; he certainly had enough money to do so, what with how generous Al Sarmen had been with him lately. The freckled man gazes at Morgiana from the corner of his eye. He may have been blessed with brains and a hand in the organization’s wallet, but _she_ was not, and that much was obvious. She eyed the food stands with barely concealed yearning, a hand rubbing soothingly at her stomach.

Al Sarmen never did treat the lessers well. Knowing them, all she probably got was stale bread and cold porridge. Ja’far is suddenly hit with a twinge of guilt and takes Morgiana by the arm, getting her attention. “My apologies,” he says with a rueful smile. “I shouldn’t be talking about food so much, should I? Do you mind me asking if you’ve eaten?”

The apology throws Morgiana off balance, and she looks scared for a second--so scared that Ja’far almost _regrets_ apologizing to her--before shaking her head, brows furrowing. “It’s...it’s alright.” Her voice is laden with bewilderment, so quiet that it’s obvious she’s unsure of her words. “I...of course I ate. They care for us all, after all…”

_Poor girl_ , Ja’far thinks with a frown. Children raised in the organization are used to lying; to show any ill feelings or disdainful thoughts regarding the ones who raised them would lead them to a fate worse than death. Al Sarmen was cruel, and did not take too kindly to children who didn’t appreciate them.

All the more reason Ja’far’s venture outside tonight was so dangerous.

“It’s okay. I know I’m...favored highly by them.” It almost feels _wrong_ to say that, as if he’s done something he shouldn’t have by being in their favor. “But I am not one of them. And neither are you.” _Not one of them, just_ owned _by them_ were the unspoken words hanging between the two. His words seem to do the trick though: Morgiana’s shoulders sag in relief and she looks at him hopefully. “Al Sarmen doesn’t treat you like they treat me, I know. So if you’re hungry don’t be afraid to tell me. It’s not like _I’m_ doing anything, tugging you around market like this.” The visit had done nothing so far but place Ja’far’s original idea in doubt, and as such was deemed pointless.

Morgiana’s cheeks are red when she points at a stand a few yards away. “Then...can we go there? I hear their hogget is good.”

 

 

***

 

The sun is beginning its sleepy descent back to earth when Morgiana finishes her twentieth hogget stick. Ja’far had (quite bemusedly) watched her eat happily, taking her time savoring each stick until she was full. With a content sigh she lays back onto the patch of grass they had retreated to, away from the noisy market.

“...Thank you,” She says with a smile, the first of the day. It makes a small part of Ja’far melt, knowing that he’s done something to make the girl happy.

“You don’t have to thank me. I only did what a normal human would.” The underlying malice is undoubtedly aimed at Al Sarmen and their mistreatment of some of the children under their care, and despite himself he frowns.

A brief silence passes over the two before Morgiana speaks again, a bit of the unsureness from earlier creeping back into her voice. “Do...you mind me asking, sir…?”

“You don’t have to be so formal, Morgiana. Please, call me Ja’far.”

“Then...Ja’far…” She fiddles with the ends of her hair in embarrassment. The higher-ups often didn’t care to remember the names of children below them, yet Ja’far seemed to have remember hers. “Why did you request for me to accompany you?”

Ah, that. Telling her would be risky, knowing how most children in the organization were quick to tattle if it meant getting a foothold somewhere. Ja’far spares a quick glance at Morgiana, deciding that he could risk it. “You’re a good girl, so I guess there’s no harm in telling you. To be honest I thought I’d have a heavy load to bring back home, so I requested assistance. The fact that they sent you was just pure chance,” he says with a shrug. “...Tonight I plan on leaving the walls.”

Well, _that_ gets her attention. She’s sitting back up in a hurry, wide-eyed and impossibly sad when she latches onto his hand. “You can’t _do_ that.” _And here we are_ , the freckled man thinks with a sigh. He knew she’d have some opposition to it, but… “It’s dangerous. You’ll die.”

Ja’far brushes Morgiana’s hand away, a bit miffed now. “And how do you know that for sure? Sure, there’s that fantastical tale about wolves- but there can’t be _that_ many wolves out, and they can’t all have a taste for human flesh. For god’s sake, we’re in _here_ and they’re out _there_. If anything, I’d think that if a wolf saw a human wandering about it would be more curious than bloodthirsty.”

“That’s not true. They’re killers, I-I--” She swallows thickly, pursing her lips together as a doleful sound threatens to escape. “I know. They killed someone very important to me, once. It was the organization’s fault, bringing him out there...but...”

But..? “The _organization’s_ fault?” Saying that sounded more treasonous than talking about escaping. “What are you talking about..? If they had a hand in this, then that ‘someone’ important to you must have disobeyed them.” No one ever heard from children who disobeyed Al Sarmen. They just _disappeared_ , and were never spoken of again...friendships easily came and went because of it, and most kept to themselves nowadays- the elder children especially. Ja’far was twenty-six, and knew better than to acquaint himself with any other children besides the ones above him in rank, but Morgiana...she was young and looked no older than fifteen; her hopes had not been sucked dry yet. Again Ja’far is awash with sheer pity for the girl, and he pinches the bridge of his nose to calm himself. “Tell me who this ‘someone’ is. What happened to them?”

Morgiana takes a deep breath and steels her nerves. She’s never talked to anybody about anything that happened while she was younger, preferring greatly to put any and all unpleasant memories behind her. But if it made Ja’far stay, then… “...His name was Alibaba. It feels like so long ago, I...was only 6 at the time. He was ten. We...were different.” She looks at Ja’far. “Like you and I. He was gifted like you, but he always hung out with us- the lessers. Alibaba was kind...too kind. Al Sarmen didn’t like it when he stood up for us lesser children, but he did that a lot. He just...wanted us all to be happy. He would spar with us, and teach us everything he remembered from his lessons and…give us so much of his food.” She laughs despite herself, pulling her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on them.

“Once he gave me lamb, insisting that I eat it because I was a girl and the meat was soft. But I wanted mutton, and we argued about it for a while until we were both hungry...so we decided to eat hogget together. It was my first time tasting it. I liked it. He was the only one who looked at me so much, like I wasn’t worthless…

“One day Al Sarmen had enough. They told him he would be going somewhere, but they didn’t tell him the exact location. That day we spent all the time we could together, and he promised me that he would come back...and that we would meet again, like he was going far away. He didn’t come back that night. He didn’t come back for the rest of the week.”

“They couldn’t have sent him far,” Ja’far pipes in doubtfully, brows furrowing. “How do you know it was wolves who killed him?”

“Because I found _fur_ all over my bed one night, when I came home. Al Sarmen doesn’t allow pets, you know that, so why did that appear months after I last saw Alibaba? It wasn’t just fur, either...Alibaba used to wear a red rope around his neck, and that was there too. It...was like a warning from them.” She sniffles and wipes her glossy eyes. “They know the wolves are vicious. They tell us that _every night_.” Even the lessers weren’t safe from the nightly storytelling. “And they keep them sated by feeding them children who have lost their favor.”

Morgiana looks at Ja’far pleadingly, making one last attempt to take hold of his hand. “They still like you very much, Ja’far. So...please don’t go. It’s suicide. You can stay here and be happy-”

“Be happy under their influence? I think not,” He barks a little too quickly, snatching his hand away from Morgiana. “I’m not happy here, Morgiana. I’ve never been happy here. All my life I've been with them. _Every sickening moment of my life_. This story of theirs, and the lies they tell- the things they make us do. How can I be happy here? How can _anybody_...” Ja’far stops, feeling another headache coming on. Great. He pinches the bridge of his nose and leans back until he’s laying down in the grass. _Don’t get mad at her, she’s the same as you_ , he reminds himself in the tense silence that follows. Morgiana was younger, more naive. She believed everything Al Sarmen told her; believed that they were omnipotent, _omnipresent_ \- that she could not get away from them. If anything, as a lesser child she had more to be angry about than Ja’far did, but looking at her now…

She was scared.

Gently, he sits up and takes her hand in his, squeezing tightly. “I’m going whether you want me to or not, Morgiana. But know this- you have more of a right to leave than I do. You’re young and you’ve been treated badly by them; tricked, deceived...they tell you all sorts of lies here. It’s hurting you, and leaving this place would be...beneficial for you. And, if you ever have a change of heart…”

Morgiana purses her lips tightly, shaking her head. “...I can’t let you die, Ja’far. You’re the first person since Alibaba who's ever been nice to me like this.” She looks down sadly at their joined hands and squeezes his hand in hers, breathing shakily. “I’ve...never disobeyed Al Sarmen before. I’m afraid of them. I know...that they lie to me, and treat many of us wrong. But...they’re all I have left. My parents are gone. If they hadn’t taken me in I would be dead.”

Many a child are stuck in the organization’s grip this way, believing that they owe them their lives to compensate for receiving food, protection, and a roof over their heads. It was different for Ja’far, who was raised by them since infancy. He’s never seen his parents’ faces, nor has he grown attached to any of the faceless strangers who have raised him. In his mind he owes them nothing, whereas in Morgiana’s they own both her body and soul. It was understandable that, even now, she couldn’t bear to leave them.

“I’ve been so lonely since Alibaba disappeared. Even the other lessers don’t talk to me. It’s like I’m invisible.” Her gaze slides over to Ja’far and she gives him a dismal smile. “Sometimes...I wish I could die because of it. I want to pass away in my sleep, dreaming about the times he’s made me _happy_. Does that make me ungrateful, Ja’far? ...I’d gladly die if it meant seeing Alibaba again.”

Poor, poor thing. To be so _attached_ to someone…

“But then you came, and you were nice to me. You brought me food just like Alibaba did, and treated me like I wasn’t worthless. It made me very happy. I…I don’t want to lose you too. I need to protect you. Something tells me...it would make Alibaba very happy. So...”

Ja’far tilts his head curiously. “...So?”

“...When do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now for the important question...................is Alibaba really dead?????? Huh


	3. Interlude: Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Into each life some rain must fall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I'm not dead \o/ Just lazy. This chapter is a little rushed so I apologize if you find something weird in it.

No one said anything about _rain_ tonight. It only took seconds for the dark clouds to amass overhead and start to pour, and now Ja’far looks back at the kingdom’s walls--the walls that he and Morgiana passed without so much as a second glance; wall security wasn’t something the organization was particularly worried about, given the fact that Solomon himself had divined it with magic--with brief regret, wishing for a roof over his head and a dry blanket to wrap himself in.

 

“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Ja’far is pulled away from his thoughts when Morgiana speaks, and he looks at her. She’s swaddled in goatskins and rabbit furs- enough to keep a man warm through the winter- and wears a pack swollen with goods on her back, and even though fat raindrops fall against her face and mat her hair in wild clumps, she seems happy. Thankful, even...suddenly Ja’far feels guilty for complaining about the rain, and nods quietly.

 

“They haven’t sent out a search, so we must be doing well. But we need to hurry before something _else_ finds us.” Meaning the wolves, naturally, if there even were wolves...he’s skeptical of that too, but it’s better to be safe than sorry when it comes to predators roaming about. “Come, we’re approaching the woods...if we find a good enough thicket we can camp out in the trees until the rain passes.” Which would hopefully be soon- Ja’far can hardly see when his hair is draping itself over his eyes. He brushes his hair back with a pout and a sigh.

 

This was going to be a _long_ night.

 

***

 

Sometimes Sharrkan regrets taking on an apprentice. Sure, it’s nice at first: having someone revere you and take everything you say to heart is pretty damn great, and girls pay _much_ more attention to you when you play the teacher-role, but then comes the responsibility and knowledge that you need to take care of said apprentice…and suddenly it’s not as sweet anymore.

 

Take now, for instance. Night had fallen and, as customs went, Sharrkan was to accompany his apprentice into the woods surrounding their domain to make sure the wolves were happy and the area was secure. It usually wasn’t much; they’d walk a little bit to check the deepest parts and the wolves would do the rest, checking the outskirts and the areas near the forbidden walls. His apprentice, however, had plans of his own.

 

“Alibaba, there’s no one out here and it’s _cold_. Let’s just call it a night and head back, yeah? The girls will cook up something nice and warm tonight and we’ll be dry at home.” It had started raining not too long ago and Sharrkan could feel the fur on his ears become unpleasantly clumpy and wet, but still Alibaba--although neither of them had geared themselves up for rain--trucked on, ears perky and equally wet.

 

“A few more minutes, master. I know something’s wrong...I just…” The blonde frowns and picks up his pace, Sharrkan quick on his heels with a quartet of hungry-looking wolves. “Doesn’t something feel wrong to you? Like someone’s here in the woods.”

 

“Well, _we’re_ here in the woods. Can’t be much else besides the wolves and whatever else walks around in the rain at night. How much farther do you plan on going?” Sharrkan stops and the four Canids follow suit. "I’m telling you, whatever you find could be found quicker if we went home and let the wolves earn their keep,” He says, patting one of the calm beasts’ shoulder.

 

Alibaba stops and his shoulders sag. “I’m sorry. It...it feels like someone is here and I normally don’t...never mind.” Lightning flashes in the distance and the rainfall gets heavier. “...It’s probably just the rain doing that to me.” He laughs weakly, turning back towards the area they came from. “This is the last time I decide to keep vigil on a rainy night. Masrur’s better off doing these kinds of things, right?” That earns a laugh from Sharrkan, who reaches a hand out and ruffles Alibaba’s hair.

 

“Right, Masrur is supposed to be doing all the hard stuff. You ready to go back home? I’ll order these guys to continue the vigil.” Or, he would have. Before Sharrkan can say anything else there’s a large boom of thunder overhead.

 

There’s a scream in the distance. The wolves howl.

 

***

 

It wasn’t Ja’far’s intentions to yell so loud, but it’s not like he was expecting thunder and lightning either. He couldn’t stand those loud crashes; he was prone to slipping under his bed sheets back at home (how unpleasant it is, to call it that) when the occasional thunderstorm came, but now there was nowhere to hide. He had to keep walking for his sake and Morgiana’s, but...

 

“Ja’far, did you hear that? That was a _wolf_ , they’re here! We need to hurry...”

 

He's too embarrassed to even look at Morgiana now, and opts to focus on the path ahead instead. "I know...I'm sorry, it's my fault. That outburst was..." His cheeks must be flaming red now, shit. He waves a hand dismissively. "Unnecessary."

 

"That doesn't matter now. Come on." Everything is unpleasantly wet and slick, and grabbing onto Ja’far’s arm is ten times harder than it needs to be. "Your safety is more important than that." Morgiana keeps a firm hold on him and starts to run, ignoring the splashes of mud and how it dirties her furs and skins (brand new, bought by Ja’far before they returned home earlier in the day) and makes her skin itch uncomfortably. 

 

There’s more howling, then snarling and barks. They were nearing faster than Ja’far would have liked them to, and he lets out a shaky breath. “Morgiana,” he starts, steadying his nerves. “Let go. I’m just slowing you down, we need to split up.”

 

“But-”

 

“Either we split up, or we get eaten. You’ll have a better chance if you’re not dragging me around, and I’ll have a better chance if I’m not clinging to you. If we both get out of this then we’ll meet up back by the walls.” Although he had no intentions of going back, if it was to make sure they were both safe then…

 

Morgiana swallows thickly, nodding only after a few seconds of thought. “...Promise me you’ll be safe?” She asks weakly, and Ja’far can’t tell if she’s about to cry or if the rain has gotten in her eyes.

 

“I promise. Now _go_.” Ja’far pulls his arm out of Morgiana’s grip and veers to the right, moving as far away from the redhead as he can get. The snarls seem to follow him and recede at the same time- _there’s more of them than I thought_ , he thinks, chancing a look behind him. Lightning flashes and three pairs of eyes greet him. _Not good._

 

He weaves his way through as many trees as he can in the growing darkness, chest heaving and legs practically screaming for rest. But he can’t stop now- he’s traveling deep and the trees are getting closer and closer, harder to slip past and easier to trip over. Sooner or later something would happen to his pursuers…

 

Or him.

 

Another flash of lightning, and thunder cracks loud overhead. The light is blinding and Ja’far reels momentarily-- _now is not the time to be afraid_ , he thinks--but it’s too late. The brief moment is all it takes for _something_ to latch onto his arm, and he screams as pain rips through him. A set of paws and….hands?...are on his back and soon he’s toppling over, falling to the wet earth below.

 

“Easy,” comes a voice, much too masculine to be Morgiana’s. “Don’t hurt him too much. Let’s take him in.” The pain in his arm recedes and a pair of hands hoist him up, but his vision is far too blurry now- from shock or the effects of being out in the rain too long, he doesn’t know- to see who his ‘savior’ is.

  
Before he blacks out, Ja’far swears he can hear somebody call Morgiana’s name. But...was it his voice…?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sharrkan and....Alibaba????? Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||) Looks like they're the two 'wolves' we get to meet first
> 
> I plan on sketching out a few things so everyone can get a feel for the area and how it actually looks, but I'm a pretty lazy person when it comes to drawing so that might take a while orz


End file.
